


Collections of Axes and Arrows

by notanightlight



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Setting, Drabbles, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings In Chapter Notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 14,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notanightlight/pseuds/notanightlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for little gigolas drabbles and ficlets.  All chapters are independent of each other.  Warnings (if any) will be posted in individual chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kid On The Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you want to use any of the ficlets in this collection for recording purposes, you have my blessing! Just link back to my fic and let me know!)

 

 

Legolas had to wonder if this trip was some sort of repentance for being so glib on the Misty Mountains. He scrambled after Gimli along the nigh unseeable path he was leading them along. In the dim pre-dawn light it was clear to see that although fleetness still graced Legolas’s Elven feet, Gimli was the more sure footed of the two when it came to climbing mountains.

Gimli had roused Legolas early from their bed in Erebor, a rare occurrence if ever there was one, and insisted that there was something Legolas must see. And so Legolas followed, although truth be told, he was keeping an eye on where he set his feet and following the sound of the jaunty tune Gimli was humming.

"This should be a good spot," Gimli called back to the trailing elf. He took a seat on a ledge of stone and motioned for Legolas to do the same.

"You have to get to the eastern face of the mountain to really see a view like this," he said just as the sun peeked over the horizon. Legolas felt his breath catch as the miles of fields and plains beyond were painted in brilliant oranges and a distant river glimmered like a ribbon of gold.

"Can’t see a sight like this through all of your trees," Gimli remarked, obviously pleased.

"No you really can’t," Legolas agreed, happy to watch the sun slowly rise with Gimli by his side.

 

 


	2. After You Came

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (The challenge was to write a piece inspired by the song by The Moody Blues)
> 
> Canon Era

Gimli glared at the rain falling outside the gates of Aglarond. He hated that rain.

There used to be a time when Legolas could ignore the sound of water rushing and the smell of damp earth, but after so many years he couldn’t resist. The sea longing had sunk its hooks in deep and dragged him out to wander in the rain. ‘Rain from the sea,’ he would say as he drifted out into the pouring rain.

Every time the rains came Gimli would wait for Legolas to return to their home and then would laugh and joke about him looking like some poor, half-drowned thing. It was either laugh, or break at this point, because Gimli had reached the top of his wall and was perilously close to tipping over it.

And so Gimli waited for Legolas to return back to the earth again, hating the rain, and hoping they would find a way through this.

 


	3. Drive My Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Inspired by the Beatles song)
> 
> Modern AU

 

 

Finally his shift was over. Gimli dragged a hand over his face. He needed to get a job that didn’t involve showing overly liquored hotheads the door at too damn late/early o’clock. Sure, the pay was fine working as a bouncer for Nori’s place, but not even an old family friend was worth all of the trouble.

He watched the last few patrons stumble out as he shrugged on his thick jacket and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"Hey" he heard a voice call, "You sober?"

He felt his brows rise as he watched the blond man wobble unsteadily where he was standing. From the way he was dressed, he was probably one of the patrons, but Gimli was off duty.

"More sober than you are," he replied with a snort.

"Perfect," the blond said, and tossed something at Gimli with surprising accuracy. Gimli caught the object automatically, and was surprised to see a set of keys in his hands, "You can drive my car."

Gimli looks up at the man incredulously.

"You’re either mad or blind. I’m not a taxi service."

"Nah, you’re much more exciting," the man said with a smirk.

Gimli shook his head. The stranger was reckless, that was for sure, but something about his smirk and the neon pink light from Nori’s sign glimmering on his hair made Gimli want to be reckless too. Besides, who knows what kind of sicko the guy my hand the keys to his car to next?

"Fine, just tell me where you’re going," he said with a sigh.

The mans smirk grew into a full on grin.

"Oh, I’m going places," he replied with a bright laugh. "You just watch, this is going to be the start of something great."

He gave Gimli a wink.

"Who knows? Maybe I’ll love you."

 


	4. One Day More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Inspired by the song from Les Misérables)
> 
> Canon era.

 

There something of an air of finality that hovered over the ranks as the made the trek towards the Black Gates. All knew that this would likely be the last battle they live to see. It was a sobering thought.

Gimli tightened his grip on Legolas’s waist, tucking his thumbs under the elf’s belt. At this point it was less about securing that he would not fall from their mount, and more about reminding himself that they were alive and close.

"You promised to come see Fangorn Forest with me," Legolas spoke suddenly, "Don’t forget that."

Gimli looked at the tense set of Legolas’s shoulders and his stiff posture radiating apprehension.

"I will not forget as long as you remember that you swore to go with me to the Crystal Caves," he replied.

Legolas nodded.

"Then we shall both remember and meet after the battle to make our plans."

Gimli tightened his hands on his friend’s belt, and wondered if Legolas’s keen sight could already make out the field where they would make their stand.

"Alright, lad," he murmered, "just one more battle, one more day and we’ll make those plans."

Just one more day, to decide if there would be anymore days as free peoples to follow.

 


	5. Feather White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Based on the song by A Silent Film)
> 
> WARNING: reference to Major Character Death. Modern Era

 

The first thought that went through Gimli’s mind was that Legolas never did take the cold seriously enough. The second was that this couldn’t be happening.

He felt numb, the way he imagined that Legolas must’ve felt at some point.

He never should have let Legolas go out into the snow like that. And if he couldn’t convince him to stay inside, he shouldn’t have let him go alone. Then maybe this never would have happened to his Legolas. His poor Legolas.

The policeman who finally found Legolas after all their searching is still talking to Gimli, but he can’t hear him. The only sound in his world is the fading echo of Legolas’s heartbeat.

Still so beautiful, even frozen solid.

 

 


	6. Too Much Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Inspired by the Jason Mraz song)
> 
> Canon Era. A bit humorous.

 

Legolas thought he had been familiar with the concept of feasting from the celebrations in Eryn Lasgalen, however, he now realized he was mistaken. There was nothing in his history to rival the feast the dwarves of Erebor threw.

He looked at the veritable mountain of food on his plate and wondered just where he was supposed to put it all. It had to weigh at least a quarter or more of what he did.

"Go on and eat up," Gimli’s mother said, placing one more roll on his plate, "need to put some weight on you."

Legolas gave Gimli a plaintive look, but Gimli was too busy chuckling for it to be entirely effective.

"She’s just showing that she likes you," Gimli said, patting the resigned elf on the shoulder.

Legolas had faced down orcs, oliphants, and fell beasts without flinching. Surely he could face this so as not to offend his future mother-in-law.

He picked up his fork and knife resolutely, and began planning how to best tackle this mountain of food while his fiancé shook his head fondly in the background.

 


	7. Here We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Inspired by the N'Sync song. Yes you read that right.)
> 
> Modern Era

 

If his cousins absolutely had to drag him to a party, he wished they would at least give him some warning. Especially if it was a themed party.

He felt entirely out of place as a Spice Girls song blared through the speakers and Kili darted off to dance with some redhead in Jnco jeans. Gimli hadn’t even been aware that 90s parties were a thing!

Seeing that Fili was already in the middle of a dance circle Gimli decided to get off the dance floor. He all but crashed into some tall, blond, leggy guy in a brightly colored windbreaker and keds as he tried to navigate his way to the bar.

Gimli was just about to apologize when the music changed to a song by some boy band. The guy laughed, grabbing Gimli’s hand and pulling him back into the fray.

"Here we go!" the guy crowed.

Gimli was too startled to even think about protesting.

After about five more dances with the guy (Legolas. Got to remember that and not to wash these jeans with his number still in the pocket), Gimli had to admit that 90s parties were more fun than he thought!

 


	8. You Know That It's Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Challenged to write a ficlet based on the phrase "You know that it's crazy.")
> 
> Canon era.

 

It was strange how the sounds of battle, so loud and jarring, could fade into the background. Over their long journey Gimli had heard whistling winds, the trod of horse hooves, and even elven singing all fade until they were only noticed upon their absence. He found it worrying that the clang of orcish metals on mannish steel and cries of the wounded and dying could become just as unremarkable.

Gimli clutched his great axe in a tight grip as he paused behind an overturned supply cart to catch his breath. He could not bring himself to loosen his grip in the shadow of the black gate, even in the relatively quiet spot he had found.

A figure landed beside him, and only the flash of golden hair in the gloom stayed his hand. He breathed a relieved sigh as the familiar form of the Woodland prince crouched next to him.

"You've found the only still spot in the battlefield my friend," Legolas said, a few mismatched arrows held in his fist.

"Aye, just don't stand up or your bright head shall give us away," he replied, mustering up a small chuckle.

Legolas gave him a tight smile.

"Do not worry, my friend, I have no intention of becoming a target for any of these," he said waving a barbed orcish arrow at Gimli. Gimli watched as the elf tucked the arrow into his empty quiver. The elf quickly inspected the remaining arrows, saving two more orcish arrows and four of the broad headed arrows of men. Two arrows he cast aside; one obviously missing fletching and the other for some reason Gimli could not discern. What he could discern was the bleeding gash on the elf's arm.

"There must be five orcs for every man out there," Gimli commented, feeling weariness settle over him, "And who knows how many still wait within Mordor's gates."

Legolas did not raise his head, his long hair hiding his face as he checked over the blade of his white knife for nicks.

"You more than likely have the right of it," he murmured in reply.

"Then what shall we do Legolas?" he asked, sighing heavily. "There is no seeing the end of this without a miracle"

Legolas looked up at him them, a reckless glint in his eyes. "Then if this is to be our end, let us make it one that shall be sang about if there are any left to sing!"

Gimli blinked at him, startled by the fervor in his words. Perhaps the nearness of death was making the immortal brash, for he had never seen the elf thus.

"I recall Aragorn fighting some ways towards the front," Legolas continued, tilting his head in a calculating manner. "We can fight our way to him and make our stand there."

Gimli watched Legolas ready his knife and turn to enter the fray again.

"You know that it's crazy," he muttered, "fighting to the front."

Legolas turned back to him.

"What does it matter if it's crazy if this is the end," he asked, "So long as we do not meet it with regrets?"

Then the elf surged forward, placing a firm kiss on Gimli's lips. He pulled back, flashing a bright grin.

"I am alright with crazy!" he declared and darted out from behind the supply cart before Gimli could gather his wits to reply.

Gimli couldn't help the laugh he let loose as his weariness gave way to a surge of reckless abandon. Perhaps a bit of crazy was just what was needed.

"Right behind you, you crazy elf!" he cried and jumped back into the battle with a deadly swing of his axe.

Certainly there would be songs of the mad dwarf and elf that danced their way laughing through the greatest battle of the Third Age.

 


	9. Bike Riding on a Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Challenged to write a ficlet based on a five word prompt used as the title)
> 
> Modern era.

 

Sometimes it seemed like there wasn't enough time to think during the day, much less relax.

Gimli had almost forgotten what it was like to not have a deadline hanging over his head. He was grateful for the internship at Narvi Architects, especially when it would lead to a full time job in only a year's time, but being low man on the totem pole meant the least pleasant jobs. It had been after ten at the earliest when he'd been able to leave the firm every day for the last two weeks.

By the time he got home most nights all he really had the energy to do was flop in bed. Sometimes he would wake up when Legolas slipped into bed after his shift tending bar at the Greenwood Tavern, but more often than not he only woke briefly when the alarm went off the next morning and he wished Legolas a good day. Then he would curl up around the still warm pillow, and fall asleep for the crucial half an hour before his own alarm went off. It always hurt to pry himself away from the strange lingering scent that came from someone sleeping there who worked days in a bakery and nights at a bar.

It was tough to see so little of each other everyday while trying to still keep their spirits up at work. Gimli couldn't fault Legolas for working two jobs. He knew he was saving up to open a bakery of his own someday. It wasn't like Gimli was much better, seeing as he spent most of his weekends working on designs from his laptop. At least they still made a point to grab lunch with each other at least three times a week.

So when Gimli unexpectedly found both Legolas and himself with a day off one Tuesday, he was quite understandably at a loss with what to do. It felt a bit like his brain was trying to reboot and readjust to the idea of free time. Thankfully, Legolas appeared to have a plan.

Gimli woke up to the smell of baking bread instead of a blaring alarm and shuffled into the kitchen to find his boyfriend singing as he pulled a loaf of bread out of the oven, rolls already cooling on baking racks. Legolas greeted him with a peck on the cheek and instructions to go get cleaned up while he finished in the kitchen.

After a relaxing shower Gimli shrugged on one of his favorite t-shirts and met Legolas in the kitchen. Legolas handed him a breakfast roll and finished packing slices of bread into his drawstring backpack before dragging Gimli outside.

There at the bottom of the stairs were the old bicycles from their college days.

The day that followed felt almost dreamlike in quality.

They biked to the market place and filled up Legolas's backpack with cheeses, meats, and produce the kind of quality they just couldn't get in the groceries. After that they went through the arts district, stopping to take silly photos with some statues outside the art museum and check out some of the smaller shops and galleries. Gimli even bought a new set of drafting pencils.

Afterwards they simply biked down whatever street looked interesting. They ran into a few friends at the corner of Lake ave. and High st. and stopped to listen to some street performers on East Bree st. Finally they came to a park overlooking the lake and stopped to rest and have a bite to eat. As they sat munching on sandwiches made courtesy of their finds in the market and Legolas's bread (his great aunt Galadriel's recipe, Gimli recognized) and watching the sailboats on the lake Gimli couldn't imagine a more perfect day.

"We should find time for this more often," Gimli said. Legolas turned to give him a smile.

"What," he asked, "Bike riding on a Tuesday?"

"Exactly," Gimli replied, finishing his sandwich, "Why not?"

Legolas chuckled to himself and flopped down onto his back.

"You know what? I think that's a great idea."

It wasn't easy to manage, but they found a way to set aside at least one Tuesday a month for a bike ride around the city. And the best memories of their toughest year were made coasting down the streets on their bikes. 

 


	10. Is That What I Think?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to write a ficlet based on the five word phrase in the title)
> 
> Canon era.

Aragorn considered himself, quite accurately, to be a very observant person. He could track a person three days after they crossed his path, and tell what weapon left a wound with a single glance. Despite this, as he studied the braid at the back of Legolas's head he felt that he had missed something very significant. 

The braid was a precisely woven four strand pattern with small beads studded through them. It was not a very Elvish pattern. In fact, he would say that it was more Dwarvish in nature. With those beads he might even say it was...

"Is that what I think?" he blurted out, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be listening to the proposed design for a new well in the second level of the city. He could feel all eyes in the meeting room settle on him.

"The... pipe line?" one of the dwarves presenting the project, Jorin, guessed hesitantly eyes flicking to the portion of the design they had been discussing. 

Gimli gave the king a questioning look, the kind that said, 'I know you are smarter than that.'

Aragorn cleared his throat.

"No. Forgive me, I was momentarily distracted by Legolas's braid," he replied, hoping he was not getting red in the face. He could hear Arwen chuckling behind her hand.

Legolas lifted a hand to the braid in question, running his fingers over it to check for snags.

"Is something amiss with it?" he asked.

"I just thought it resembled a—" Aragorn began, trailing off as he watched Legolas duck his head so Gimli could inspect the braid. 

"—Dwarvish marriage braid," he finished lamely as Gimli declared that the braid was perfect.

Jorin, the younger engineer snorted.

"Of course it's not a marriage braid," she commented, crossing her arms. "It's a pre-marriage braid!"

Aragorn froze as little instances and hints realigned themselves in his memory.

"Won't be able to put in a marriage braid until we have a wedding back in Erebor. You didn't realize?" Gimli asked, lifting an incredulous eyebrow.

Arwen had given up all pretenses of politeness and was doubled over in her chair, shaking with mirth.

"I've been wearing it for more than two weeks," Legolas added, giving his friend a somewhat concerned look.

Aragorn opened his mouth and shut it again, floundering as a thought occurred to him. He turned to Arwen sharply.

"You already knew!" he realized.

It took the ageless queen a moment of trying to gather her poise together again so she could wheeze out, "I congratulated them last week! Did you really not notice?"

She dissolved into laughter again.

"Congratulations?" he offered his friends, still feeling very out of step.

Gimli just shook his head, eyes rolled skywards as Legolas patted Aragorn's shoulder consolingly. 

"We'll have to go over the designs another time, Jorin," Gimli told the bemused engineer.

Funny, Aragorn thought having his friends close at hand would make being King more straightforward.


	11. Sorry, It Can't Be Helped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to write a fic incorporating the five word phrase used as the title)
> 
> Canon era. Mentions of mortality.

Gimli had heard rumors of elves glowing in the dark since he was a child. There was a long standing miners joke that they would make friends with an elf just to have a light that would never go out. As a child, he imagined elves flickering like candle flames, and was very disappointed the first time he saw that was not the case.

After months spent on the road with an elf, you would think he would have become familiar with it, but that was not so.

During the early nights there was always a fire or starlight to mask the elf's glow. Even in the pits of Moria Legolas's glow was indistinguishable from the light of Gandalf's staff.

It was not as if the elf was hard to spot either way, what with his bright hair, fair skin, and tall stature. It took a long time for Gimli to realize that it was not only his outstanding features that made him seek out the elf before all others of their company, but when it did it led to the first time he truly noted elf glow.

Gimli lay on his back in their bed, breathing deeply and letting exhaustion settle deeply in his bones, when he noticed a faint light through the cracks of his eyelids. He cracked one open and his breath caught.

There, in the pitch darkness of their room with the lights snuffed out and the windows shuttered Legolas sat on the edge of the bed giving off the faint hint of silvery light. Gimli first likened it to moonlight, but that seemed wrong. Starlight, he decided, was much more fitting. Yes, it was as if the starlight had clung to the elf's naked skin to be carried around the way road dust sticks to travelers.

Legolas noticed his staring and gave him a rueful little smile.

"Has my glow disturbed your sleep?" he whispered, "Sorry, it can't be helped, or I would dim it for you."

Gimli reached out to brush his fingers over the luminous skin of Legolas's thigh.

"How could it disturb me when there is no gem I could dream of to catch the light as beautifully as your skin?"

A light flush colored Legolas's cheekbones and the tips of his ears, and Gimli marveled at the sight. 

Legolas laid down facing Gimli, catching one of Gimli's hands in his own gently gleaming grasp. The light of Legolas's skin reflecting on his own work worn fingers was a sight he felt he could happily study for the rest of his life. 

A thought occurred to him.

"You have no Dark Name to give me," he began, "but I shall know the glow of your skin in any darkness. And when I have died—"

"Gimli," Legolas interrupted, clutching his hand tighter.

"I am sorry, love, but it can't be helped," he apologized, running a comforting hand over the elf's pale hair. "And when I have gone to that darkness, my soul shall find you again by the glow of your skin."


	12. We Should Probably Do That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word sentence in the title into a ficlet)
> 
> Modern era.

Gimli was trying to beat the next level of his video game when Legolas sauntered back into their dorm. He dropped his backpack by his desk and crouched down in front of their mini fridge to inspect the contents as the sounds of Gimli trying to take out an evil alien race filled the small space.

"We still haven't gotten any more breakfast burritos," he remarked as he grabbed a couple of cans of Mountain Dew and wondered what would make a better breakfast for the next day; Easy Mac or canned ravioli. 

"We should probably do that," Gimli replied without taking his eyes off the game.

Legolas came over and sat on the futon, opening one can of Dew and pressing the other against the back of Gimli's neck until he paused the game to grab it. 

"I heard there's a campus event out on the quad tomorrow," Gimli said, taking a sip of his Dew. "Looks kind of dumb but I hear they're giving away free burgers."

Legolas grinned at the mention of free food.

"Yeah, we should probably do that," he agreed. He settled in to watch Gimli blow up some digital aliens and enjoy not thinking about his Mandarin class anymore. He didn't know why he took that class. Even if his Dad said it was a good language for business, just sticking with Spanish would have been much easier. 

"You know, Pippin thinks we're dating," he said after a moment.

Gimli made an interested sound.

"Apparently he and Merry are certain of it," he continued, only pausing to drain the rest of his drink, "while Boromir thinks it would be a crime if we never started dating."

Gimli gave him a little wink, momentarily taking his attention off the game.

"Well then, we should probably do that," he replied with an amused laugh.

"You know, my cousins think we have passionate make out sessions every time we've got our door closed," Gimli continued, saving his game at a checkpoint and turning it off. He moved to join Legolas on the futon.

"We should definitely do that," Legolas said with a grin at the familiar feeling of Gimli's hands framing his face as he went in for a kiss.

Five years later Legolas came into their flat to the smell of Gimli cooking some kind of pasta.

"I ran into that old pastor we helped with the charity last week," he said as he took off his shoes. "Apparently he thought we were such a cute couple that he's offered to officiate if we decide to get married."

Gimli ran a finger over the little velvet box in his pocket and tried to contain his smile.

"We should probably do that."


	13. Help Me Feel Alive Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word phrase in the title into a ficlet.)
> 
> Modern era. Sorta. It's complicated.

Gimli was could feel exhilaration suffuse the very core of him. His whole life he felt like he was searching for something and a part of his soul insisted that it was close. It was that feeling that spurred him to study archeology and anthropology in college, and drove him to the oldest most out of the way dig sites he could find.

If he could just find this ineffable thing he was searching for then maybe he could feel some peace, instead of this urge to go, seek, find!

Going in the mountains had been an idea based on a story an old local with white-grey hair and a twinkle in his eye had mentioned, about some tomb long hidden in the old forests at the mountain's base. 

The majority of his team was far behind, closer to a path where they could reliably say there had once been a Roman trade route, but Gimli had gone off on his own following an unsatisfied hunch.

From the corner of his eye he thought he caught a pale glimmer and headed in that direction.

The undergrowth was thick and the forest floor was crisscrossed by thick tree roots making it difficult for Gimli to navigate. He shouldered his way past some particularly thick branches, wishing for a machete, an axe, anything to make getting through the forest a bit easier. He stumbled through the other side and stopped dead in his tracks.

There, carved right into the mountainside, was unmistakably a doorway. Part of it had crumbled away and any decoration or carvings that once adorned it had been weathered away to mere suggestions of what might have been there. It was like something out of his wildest dreams.

He entered the doorway into a short hall, careful not to disturb anything and duck his head. He had a bad habit of underestimating how tall he was and knocking into things. It wouldn't do to knock himself out in the middle of the biggest discovery of his career. 

The hallway opened into a wider room and Gimli felt almost dizzy. In the dim light from the entryway he could see a large marble sarcophagus. Runes were carved into the front, old Norse by his guess, and a large axe was laid on top of it. A formidable array of smaller axes and knives were displayed on the back wall, but there were no other grave goods that he could see.

Still, the most remarkable feature of the tomb (he found a tomb! An actual untouched tomb!) was the life sized statue of a cloaked and hooded figure perched on the edge of the sarcophagus. The folds in the clothing were remarkable and the features on the portion of the face he could see from his vantage point were flawless. The hand resting on the sarcophagus lid looked so delicate and realistic that he swore it could have been real. He could see where a creeping vine had grown on the figure and then withered from lack of sunlight. 

Gimli wracked his brain for any recollection of civilizations that carved such elaborate, realistic figures for their tombs but could come up with none. He moved further into to tomb to see if there were any indicators he could use to identify what he was looking at. The axe seemed like a good place to start, weapons were usually very indicative, after all.

He was leaning in to study the patterns when he jumped in surprise. The delicate fingers of the statue's hand moved, slowly and stiffly curling. He stumbled back until he hit the wall. Gimli's heart raced as he watched in utter astonishment as the statue lifted its head, the white hood fell back revealing a preternaturally ethereal face, with striking blue eyes and long pale hair. The statue was very much alive, it seemed.

It looked at him with an unfocused gaze and Gimli was struck by the emptiness, the long festering grief, so openly displayed there. All of its movements seemed slow and unpracticed, as if it had not moved in ages. Gimli could feel his breath getting shallower because dear Lord, were its ears pointed?

"Gimli?" the being asked.

Gimli was too struck by the almost desperate hope in its quiet voice to wonder how it knew his name.

"Please, Gimli, it's been so long that I've forgot how, my heart," it pleaded, some strange and archaic accent coloring its voice. "Help me feel alive again."

Gimli was lightheaded and confused, but one things shined clearly in his mind.

"Legolas."


	14. I Will Never Forget You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word phrase in the title into the ficlet.)
> 
> Canon Era. Sorta.

Legolas breathed in the deep scent of damp earth. The blades of grass were still bowed under the weight of spring rain, yet none of them bent under the fall of his feet. 

He glided through the glade to watch the bustling folk busily set to their tasks. He moved unnoticed through them, a shadowless memory of the being he once was. 

Legolas had tried not to fade, but age came to elves even when death did not. His recollections were vague; he recalled amusement when he realized that he had grown ancient enough for whiskers to appear on his face, and the resigned acceptance the first time he could see sunlight pass through his hand. Sometimes he found himself longing for the days of substantiality, but it was difficult to stay discontent when he was so purely himself in this form.

He stopped near an energetic figure with fiery red hair arguing quite passionately that there needed to be more trees. A warmth bloomed inside him as he realized that a part of this newly made Gimli recalled him.

This Gimli had forgotten his name, their history, perhaps even their bond, but there was still some part of Legolas that he carried with him.

Even if he had remembered their trials, Legolas doubted that he would be recognized. Gimli had known him as an elf, and now he was just a wandering fae, quietly observing the shaping of this Later Earth.

"There's got to be someplace where you can see the stars," he heard Gimli murmur. "Not exactly sure why, but I know it's important."

Legolas decided to linger nearby and fondly follow Gimli's work.

"You may not know me now," he said in a voice unnoticed by any living ear, "but I will never forget you."

Legolas would watch over Gimli as long as eternity lasted.


	15. Why Are You Watching Glee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word phrase in the title into a ficlet)
> 
> Modern era.

Gimli was understandably proud of his boyfriend. He always took the opportunity to remind his sister that his boyfriend was a bonafide virtuoso. After all, he played violin, and viola da gamba, and cello (it had taken Gimli a while to tell the difference between the two), all at the professional level. It was Gimli's firm belief that Legolas could rock anything with a bow.

In fact, the first time he ever saw Legolas had been in junior year of the university, when he had stumbled across him dancing across a stage while playing his violin while looking for an empty space to study. Apparently that's what you get when a violinist took dance all throughout his formative years, not that Legolas would ever knowingly let someone see him perform that way.

Within a month they were an item, and Gimli got himself swept into the surprisingly dynamic world of symphonies and orchestras.

As it stood, Gimli was used to finding Legolas practically swamping himself with music; deaf to all but the melodies in his headphones, or racing to show him a new video from 2CELLOS, Igudesman & Joo, or The MozART Group. So when he walked in the apartment to find Legolas wrapped up in the throw blanket, planted firmly in the center of the couch, with the TV blaring he knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, the first thing he could think to say was...

"... Why are you watching Glee?"

The Legolas cocoon on the couch curled up tighter on itself.

"The world would be a better place if people broke out into song to deal with negative feelings rather than picked at everyone else's insecurities," came the muffled reply from deep within the blanket pile. Gimli came over and sat next to Legolas, rubbing a hand over where he guessed his back was.

"Did something happen at the orchestra?" he asked gently. He knew that Legolas was stressed out he was the principal cellist for the next performance and had an hour and a half of nonstop solo to prepare for.

"No," Legolas sighed. "Nothing out of the ordinary, it's just that Maestro picks at every single tiny thing I do even the slightest bit wrong. And he always finds something wrong. And you know he wants to give the part to his niece anyways!"

"So you're watching Glee to cheer yourself up?" Gimli clarified. 

"... It isn't working," Legolas admitted.

Gimli hated seeing Legolas feeling so mopey and depressed. He started casting his thoughts around for an idea to cheer his boyfriend up when he realized he knew the song that was playing. Now Gimli was no Pavarotti, but he liked to think that he could carry a tune pretty well, and it was worth a shot.

He wrapped his arms around Legolas, blankets and all and started singing along.

_"You can lose sight of it all, and the darkness inside you..."_

"Gimli, what are you—?" Legolas interrupted, but Gimli just carried on, smashing his face up right next to Legolas's. 

_"Can make you feel so small!"_

"Gimli!" Legolas tried to scold, but Gimli could see him starting to smile as he tried to wiggle out of his grasp. So Gimli decided to put his all into it.

 _"But I see your true colors shining through!"_ he cried, as he tipped them over, landing with a thump on the couch cushions. The rest of what he was somewhat singing was lost in the fit of giggles that burst from Legolas's mouth. 

"You goof!" Legolas shouted through the giggles.

Gimli just pecked him on the nose and continued.

 _"Are beautiful like a rainbow..."_ he trailed off, enjoying the flush on Legolas's cheeks as he tried to get his chuckles back under control.

"Better?" He asked.

Legolas gave him a smile, his hair in a wild disarray on the cushion, and still wrapped up in the throw blanket, but visibly much happier.

"Better," Legolas confirmed.

The night of the performance, Legolas found a post-it note hidden beneath his cello in the carrying case. On it was neatly scrawled the words, 'Show 'em your true colors!"

Legolas rocked that performance.


	16. I Love You, You Asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word phrase in the title into a ficlet)
> 
> Modern era.

Legolas was texting with his friend from the archery club when Gimli barreled into their dorm room like a runaway train, red hair half falling out of the messy bun he threw it in that morning.

"Admit it!" he commanded, pointing a finger at Legolas's nose as the door slammed shut behind him.

Legolas felt his blood run cold. Gimli couldn't have guessed.

"What?" He asked, trying to keep the terror out of his voice.

"Don't try to deny it, Legolas," Gimli all but growled, "I know."

Legolas could feel his stomach drop. He had been so careful to hide his growing affection for his roommate. He hadn't told anyone about it, not even Tauriel. His mind wracked itself for anything he could have done to give himself away.

He swallowed hard and looked away, muttering, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh really?" Gimli asked dangerously. 

The next thing Legolas knew he had been tackled to the floor. He tried to get out from Gimli's grasp, but he knew there was very little chance of him escaping from a member of the wrestling team who wanted him pinned. Still, he struggled for all he was worth.

"Just admit it, Legolas!" Gimli demanded, getting one of Legolas's arms in a lock. "I'm not going to let you up until you say it!"

"Fine!" Legolas shouted, feeling trapped. "I love you, you asshole!"

Gimli froze above him.

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what?'" Legolas asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I wanted you to admit to eating the last of Mum's cookies," Gimli said, a completely dumbfounded expression on his face.

Legolas's heart plummeted and he fell completely still and rigid. What had he done?

"Get off me, Gimli," he said with much more calm than he actually felt.

"Legolas...," Gimli replied softly, as he loosened his grip. "Do you really mea—"

"Please," Legolas interrupted, "just get off."

Gimli sat back on his heels allowing Legolas to wiggle his way out from under him. Legolas made to stand and Gimli's hand shot out, grabbing Legolas's hand to keep him from fleeing.

"Wait!"

Legolas shut his eyes in resignation, trying to keep his breathing under control. 

"Look, let's just forget I said anything."

"What if... I don't want to forget?" Gimli asked.

Legolas was almost frightened to give in to the little flicker of hope in his chest. He looked back at Gimli. Gimli met his eyes and then deliberately laced their fingers together. Legolas let out rush of relieved breath and had to hold back a wave of tears. He had swung through so many emotions in such a short time it was a miracle he was able to hold on to his composure at all.

"I don't want to forget it, Legolas."


	17. Bodies on the Battlefield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to write a ficlet incorporating the five word phrase: dead furless smelly infected bodies)
> 
> Canon era
> 
> WARNING: blood, gore, death, implied torture, this is from an orc's perspective. This ficlet is horror. If that is going to trigger you then DO NOT READ IT!

Gnalbag cringed back into waking, the insipid sunlight filtering down into his yellowed eyes. Sticky black blood plastered loose dirt to the side of his head and he could feel the weight of another body pinning his legs down. He hissed and spat as he struggled to pull himself out from under the heavy corpse, cursing every form of life he knew of.

Dagor Dagorath lived up to its name. It truly was the battle of all battles, and the time for orcs to rise. Gnalbag believed the war would already be over, if it wasn't for the unexpected charge of those mangey rock grubbers.

The thrice damned stringy elf Warriors were struggling against the might of the Dark Lord's armies after a year of bloodshed, so close to caving that Gnalbag could practically see the battlefields littered with heaps of their dead, furless, smelly, infected bodies! And then doors opened in the mountainside and bellowing, thick-skulled dwarves poured out.

Gnalbag cursed at the mangled stump that used to be his left leg and the wound in his side still oozing tar black blood and bile. Where was his pike? He was going to drive it through the mouth of the next dwarf he saw and carry their head on it until it rotted off!

He spotted the jagged head of his pike and began scrambling over to it when a thick, steel-toed boot stepped down on it, pressing it into the sludge of dirt and blood.

"I don't think you'll be needing that," said a deep voice.

Gnalbag growled and spat a black curse at the pompous dwarf.

"Do not get comfortable with victory. This is the last you'll know it!" he ranted. "Our dark master will grind you into the stones you came from and the ground will be stained as red as your beard!"

The dwarf snorted at him dismissively, calling out that he found a live one while leaning casually on his axe, as if to emphasize how little of a threat Gnalbag was to him. Gnalbag wished he had a knife to drive into its belly. Then he noticed the nine figures engraved on the dwarf's chest plate.

"I know who you are," Gnalbag said, feeling unholy glee build up inside him. "You're the dwarf from the nine!"

Other dwarves were starting to draw near.

"You're the one who was sticking the elf!" he cackled, spraying flecks of black blood and spit.

"I would watch your tongue, orc, or I will remove it for you," the dwarf growled.

Gnalbag only laughed louder.

"Still looking for your elvish whore?" he continued. The dwarf didn't answer, but Gnalbag had seen the way his eyes swept over the battlefield. He bared his teeth in a crooked grin.

"How do you know you didn't already meet him out there?"

"What are you implying?" the dwarf spat.

"Gimli, don't listen to a thing like that," another dwarf tried to reason, but Gnalbag knew he had the red dwarf's attention now.

"You might have greeted him with your axe," Gnalbag carried on, "after all, our Master needed thousands of orcs for his armies."

Gnalbag relished the simmering mass of emotion practically radiating from the dwarf's skin.

"Do you know how orcs are made, dwarf?" he taunted with a falsely sweet voice, "I'll give you a hint."

Gnalbag lifted a finger to his own torn, but still pointed ear, nearly bursting with manic glee.

"I used to be an elf once!" Gnalbag crowed.

The last thing he ever knew was the exact taste of Dwarvish steel as the axe shattered his face.


	18. Next Time I Go Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word phrase above into a ficlet.)
> 
> Canon era

It was a good ship, Gimli had to concede, as far as ships go. The masts were straight, the sails strong, and the deck sturdy. Of course, it still appeared too light for the massive journey it was to undertake, but Gimli had come to learn that was the way of many elven crafts. They often seemed deceptively delicate for how strong they truly were. He supposed the same could be said of the elves themselves.

He watched as Legolas expertly manned the ship, as if he had been doing it all his very long life, as he came in from his test run down the river. Gimli shifted in the simple seat he brought with him to rest his weary bones as he oversaw his husband's final preparations. 

What a strange thing to be born with the knowledge of, Gimli pondered. Dwarves were born with the knowledge of their dark names, something sensible. Elves were born with the innate ability to build and sail ships. It was decidedly odd, in Gimli's opinion, but he supposed they both served the same purpose; to bring them closer to the Valar that loved them.

Gimli stood as Legolas sprang from the boat, grumbling about foolish elves jumping about like overexcited grasshoppers. He made his way over to where his husband was mooring the ship to the temporary dock. 

"That was some fine sailing, lad," he called out. "At least in this dwarf's humble opinion."

Legolas looked up at him and smiled, the somewhat melancholy smile that never grew into a full grin ever since the call of the sea became too strong.

"A good test run," Legolas conceded. "It is still so strange to think that the next time I man this ship it will be to sail out to the sea. To leave Arda behind."

He did not voice the words, but Gimli could clearly see the addition 'to leave _you_ behind,' in his love's somber eyes and the unsettled bob of his throat.

Gimli ran a thoughtful hand over his snowy white beard as wandered closer to the ship, studying it thoroughly. 

"It's a good ship," he said, reaching out to tap the hull. "It should get us there in one piece."

"What?" Legolas asked sharply. Gimli could hear the hope catching fire in his voice. "My love, do you really mean..."

Gimli turned to look at him, and had to reach up to cup that face despite the ache in his shoulder when he saw tears welling up in Legolas's eyes, smiling that breathtaking grin for the first time in ages.

"Next time, I go too," Gimli said with a nod.

Legolas dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around his husband and burying his face into his shoulder with a breathless laugh of utter relief. 

"Then you decided!" he spoke into the rich fabric of Gimli's tunic. "You'll take the Lady's gift and come with me to Valinor?"

Gimli soothed a hand over Legolas's back, feeling the way it nearly quaked as the emotions he had shored up behind elvish stoicism came rushing to the front.

"Aye, I'm coming with you," he confirmed with a gentle voice.

Besides, when his time came to pass to The Halls of Mahal he would be leaving Legolas in that place. He had to be certain that he would be leaving his husband in good stead, and wanted to be sure of it with his own eyes.

He pressed a chaste kiss to the delicate point of Legolas's ear and buried his face in his luminous hair, savoring the feel of having his husband caught up in his arms once more, and unspeakably grateful that it wouldn't be the last time.


	19. We'll Be Your New Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (i was challenged to incorporated into the title)
> 
> Canon era

Legolas had known that he would face some opposition when he travelled with Gimli to the mountain. He had known that there would be dwarves who hated his very presence there, much less his upcoming wedding. That not even his status as one of the Nine Walkers would shield him from some. He thought he was prepared.

Now he just hoped that no one would notice the quickness of his breathing or the heat he could feel at the tips of his ears and recognize them for the tells they were.

He had thought that he would face any dissenters with Gimli at his side, but Gimli was in meetings with his king discussing the colony he wanted to set up in Aglarond. So Legolas was alone amongst a host of unfamiliar faces, trying to weather the scathing vitriol being thrown his way by the dwarrow he had approached about purchasing fabric for a new tunic from.

He tried to maintain a stoic expression as he had no hope of presenting the placid one he had worked so hard to learn from his father. He must not make a scene. He would not give any dwarf reason to say that Gimli had chosen some volatile wild elf to wed.

Legolas kept his fingers from twitching as the dwarrow cursed his family, his race, and his beardless face. He tried to imagine the words rolling off him like rain off a leaf as the dwarf called him a craftless, soulless, stretched out, bat-eared bastard.

The mounting insults were almost too much to take, and Legolas was about ready to just throw the bolt of fabric in his hands at the dwarf and make a quick retreat when a gruff voice rose above the uneasy murmuring of the crowd.  
“Firin son of Firus, what nonsense are you shouting about now!”

A familiar old dwarrow with a massive white beard and a sturdy walking stick planted himself between the two.

“It’s nothing to concern yourself about, Gloin,” the dwarf replied, straightening out his shoulders. “I’m just dealing with this thing trying to purchase my wares.”

“Well I find myself concerned about it,” the old dwarrow said with a huff. He turned to Legolas.

“What possessed you to come to a stall like this?” Gloin asked, shaking his head. The younger dwarf spluttered from behind him.

Legolas clutched the fabric reflexively, feeling younger than he had in centuries. “The color caught my eye,” he tried not to mumble.

Gloin took the fabric, holding it up and looking back and forth between the bolt and Legolas with critical scrutiny.

“Well I cannot fault your eye for color, and you are going to need more blue in your wardrobe,” he conceded with a nod, “but you will find better quality fabrics sold by dwarves with much more business sense in that direction.”

“What are you saying, Gloin!” the dwarf bristled.

“I’m saying I have seen your finances, Son of Firus, and you could not hold onto a coin if someone nailed it to the palm of your hand!” Gloin said, shoving the bolt of fabric into the furious dwarf’s chest. “And no member of my family will do business with you as long as I still draw breath!”

Legolas saw where Gimli inherited his sharp tongue from. He let Gloin usher him away from the fuming merchant and towards the stalls he indicated earlier.

“Thank you,” Legolas said once they were away from the crowd.

Gloin snorted.

“I’m not going to let anyone talk about a member of my family that way.”

Legolas stopped.

“Master Gloin?” Legolas asked, confused.

Gloin paused, running a contemplative eye over the elf.

“Your the odd ore in the family vein, and no mistake about that,” he said, “but you should understand that we’ll be your new family.”

He started walking and Legolas followed, slightly dumbstruck.

“Now we really should find some fabric, you will be expected to wear our family’s blue on formal occasions, and we should look into some new beads and a few more adornments until Gimli has a chance to make you some himself,” Gloin said mostly to himself as he started perusing the goods on the nearest stall. “I don’t suppose you lot pierce those ears?”

Legolas couldn’t help but laugh.

“No we don’t, Master Gloin,” he confirmed.

Gloin gave him a flat look.

“Now what did I just say? We’re family, so drop the ‘Master’ business.”

“Alright, Gloin Adar,” Legolas replied with a smile, “can we look for carving tools as well. I left mine in Greenwood before the quest.”

Gloin nodded absentmindedly and began instructing Legolas on the fine art of haggling in a Dwarvish market.

On the next gift giving occasion, Legolas presented Gloin with an elaborately carved walking stick, that he carried with pride.


	20. The Light Is Always Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word phrase in the title into a ficlet)
> 
> Modern(ish) era

Gimli's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he kept the motor running, it was his turn to drive while the rest of the boys got the job done. He kept a sharp eye out, but so far it didn't look like any trouble.

He'd be in there himself, but the cops were starting to catch wise and his bright red beard was too recognizable. Gimli ran a hand over it as he studied himself in the rear view mirror. Maybe he should shave it. That would be more in the fashion of the day, but he always thought he looked too much like a baby face without it. 

Suddenly there was the sound of a shout and a scramble inside. A single crack of a gunshot followed by a rat-a-tat-tat of answering fire. He strained his ears but couldn't make out who was shouting what. He tried to keep himself from panicking, but the last thing they needed was a death on they're hands.

The doors of the bank burst open and three of the most skillful bank robbers on the rise dashed out. Strider, never could get a straight answer on his real name, was helping Captain Bo Stewards stagger to the backseat of the car, a few filled bags under his other arm. Boromir had been an army man just like his daddy back in the day, but when times got tough, he turned to desperate measures like so many others to make ends meet.

Trailing behind them, with his tommy gun still leveled at the bank doors, was Legolas the Green Dandy. He'd earned the nickname both for his snappy attire and the amount of green he always managed to bag.

Strider got the captain secured in the backseat.

"Get a move on, Legs!" Gimli called.

Legolas dashed to the car and swung himself into the passengers seat.

"Drive!"

Gimli didn't need to be told twice. He tore off down the road, mindful of the sirens whining in the distance.

Strider leaned forward to instruct, "Head to the White Lady's. We're going to need a safe house for a while."

"What happened?" Gimli asked, adjusting his mental route.

Legolas was clearly still riding the the adrenaline high.

"Getting the money went smooth," he said breathlessly, grinning that toothpaste spokesman smile of his. "Some worm built up enough moxie to take a shot at Bo after we got the goods."

"Again!" came the shout from the backseat. "Why do they take the shot at me, huh? Not like I'm the flashiest target outta the four of us!"

Legolas laughed and continued as if Boromir hadn't said anything.

"So I fired a few warning shots to remind 'em who had the bigger gun. Don't worry, Red Man, they won't be adding 'for murder' to our wanted signs today. So we got a pretty pile of dough for each of us and a new scar to add to Bo's collection!"

Boromir cursed at him from the backseat as strider cursed at him to sit still for Christ sake before he lost more blood. Gimli blew past one of the new traffic lights the city had installed, not bothering to see what color the light was.

Legolas just laughed again, adjusting his hat as checked to see the two in the back were preoccupied. Then he leaned in and planted a kiss firmly on the corner of Gimli's mouth.

"Don't worry about the signals, my friend," he said answering Gimli's blush with a wink. "For us, the light is always green!"

And Gimli saw the wind trying to ruffle Legolas's slicked back hair and listened to the sirens fading into the distance, and thought that maybe they could make it in this life in the fast lane.


	21. My Shiny Teeth And Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to write a ficlet that incorporates the five word phrase in the title. So I wrote this tooth-rotting fluff-fest)
> 
> Modern era

Gimli hated working late at the office. He trudged up the stairs of his home with heavy feet, shrugging off his suit coat as he climbed.

He knew he missed dinner by at least an hour or two. He glanced down at his watch to see exactly by how much and winced. Gimli was going to slaughter the idiot who botched the Moria deal he had to spend the last half of his day untangling. He was just lucky that Legolas was understanding.

Days like this made Gimli want to find a way to work from home the way Legolas had.

He just figured that he’d just change into some comfy clothes and grab some leftovers from the fridge when he heard a voice wafting down the hallway.

“My shiny teeth and me!” his husband’s voice sang. There was a slightly poppy tone to it, so unlike the soft lullabies Gimli was used to hearing him sing.

“My shiny teeth that twinkle, just like the stars in space,” Legolas’s voice floated out of the open door of the bathroom. Gimli followed it there, leaning against the door jam to watch the scene inside.

Legolas was bopping as he sang, their little girl bopping along with him as she scrubbed her Princess Merida toothbrush over her teeth.

“My shiny teeth that sparkle, adding beauty to my face!” Legolas sang. He caught Gimli’s eye in the bathroom mirror and winked, grinning as he apparently ran out of lyrics he knew.

“Sing the shiny teef song ‘gain, Daddy!” their daughter chirped, foamy toothpaste still smeared around her mouth.

“Those must be some really shiny teeth,” Gimli said, grinning as the little girl squealed 'Papa!’ as high as she could!

Legolas put a hand on her shoulder.

“Rinse and spit so Papa can see how shiny they are,” Legolas instructed with a smile as he set a cup of water in her reach.

She quickly grabbed the cup, swished, and spat before rubbing her little face dry with the hand towel. Then she sprang into Gimli’s arms as he scooped her up.

“Look how shiny my teeth are!” she cried, before showing off her freshly brushed pearly whites.

Gimli inspected them critically, humming in a very serious manner before declaring, “Why, Gracie, those must be the shiniest teeth I’ve ever seen!”

Legolas was giggling behind a hand, positively beaming.

“Have you decided what PJs you’re wearing tonight?” Gimli asked his little treasure.  
She shook her head.

“Then you go pick out a pair and I’ll help you finish getting ready for bed,” he said, setting her back on her feet.  
Legolas walked over to him, giving him a quick peck on the lips as Gracie raced off to her bedroom to pick out some PJs.

“Thank goodness for that show,” he murmured, a little laugh still lingering in his voice. “It made toothbrush time fun for her. Hard day?”

Gimli let his head fall on to Legolas’s shoulder.

“You have no idea,” he groaned.

Legolas gave another peck to the crown of his head, lifting a hand to rub at the tense muscles of Gimli’s shoulder.

“I’ll heat up some spaghetti and garlic bread for you while you tuck Grace in,” he said.

“Thanks,” Gimli said gratefully. He stood a moment more enjoying the closeness before he felt a smile steal over his face at the sounds of Gracie discussing pajama choices with her stuffed elephant.

“Think she’ll choose a matching pair this time?” he asked with grin.

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” Legolas said wryly before heading downstairs to make up a plate of dinner.

Later that night, after he had gotten Grace dressed in her PJs of choice (ballerinas on the bottoms and spaceships on the top), tucked into bed, and told her a bedtime story, Gimli stood in the doorway and couldn’t bring himself to move away. He still hadn’t changed out of his work clothes and he could smell garlic and tomato sauce from downstairs, but he just couldn’t help but pause and count his blessings that this was his life.

It had been a long, frustrating, drawn out process to adopt Grace, but from the first time he ever held her as a tiny, lonely baby to now as he watched her sleeping peacefully he had never regretted a moment of it. And he knew he never would.

“So what story was it tonight?” Legolas asked quietly as he came up to stand by Gimli’s side.

“Tonight she wanted a story about how the littlest elephant in the herd fought a scary dragon and freed the jungle,” Gimli replied.

Legolas just shook his head with a fond smile. Gracie’s imagination was something of a marvel.

“We’ll have to take her to the zoo again soon,” he said, looking at their daughter with such a tender expression on his face that Gimli felt humbled. He reached for Legolas’s hand, running his thumb over the ring there.

“How did we get so lucky?” he murmered.

“I don’t know,” Legolas replied, leaning into Gimli’s side. “Ten years ago I wouldn’t have thought any of this was possible, and now it’s just…”

“Perfect,” Gimli completed. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

“It’s more than perfect,” Legolas said. “It’s ours.”

And as Gimli stood there, married to the man he loved, watching over the best daughter he could dream of, he found he really couldn’t argue with that.


	22. Cold War Spy and Defector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to include the five word phrase in the title into a ficlet)
> 
> Modern-ish era. 
> 
> Warning: Spy typical violence, assassinations and such.

It was almost closing time at Legs' Diner and only a handful people still remained inside. One man sat at the very end of the counter, slowly finishing off the cold fries on his plate, a pair of teens were making moon eyes at each other over their long empty milkshake at one of the window booths, and a bleary-eyed businessman nursed a mug of coffee three seats away from the fry-eater.

Legolas, for whom the diner was named, watched all of them with an attentive eye as he wiped down the counter. It was more than the skill of a good waiter or restauranteur, although it certainly didn't hurt. Watchfulness was a habit he couldn't seem to shake, even though it didn't rule his life anymore.

He topped off the businessman's coffee and received a grateful nod in return.

As he set aside the coffee decanter and had to marvel at what a turn his life had taken. A little over a year ago he had been working in the Capital, bugging conference rooms between making coffee runs and dropping off microfilms loaded with pictures of classified documents for his contact to recover. And now he was partial owner of a diner in Omaha, Nebraska.

Funny how life worked.

The teens dropped some money on the counter and ducked out of the diner, a tittering giggle following in their wake. Legolas put the money into his apron pocket and gathered their empty plates and glass. Young love, or at least infatuation, was always a source of wonder. After all, if it hadn't been for an infatuation of his own, he'd probably still be faithfully serving the Motherland as he had been for the past three years since arriving in America.

"Anything else for tonight, Legs?"

Legolas looked over the two remaining patrons, pretending to ignore the way the fry-eater snuck a nip from the flask in his coat pocket.

"Looks like that's it, Gimli. You can start cleaning up back there," he replied. Smiling at the bright red head visible through the kitchen window. 

He still didn't understand why Gimli insisted they name the diner after him when Gimli was the one responsible for all of the mouthwatering food that was produced in their little kitchen. Legolas was only responsible for the pies in the dessert case. 

Gimli had been working in another diner near the office of the congressman Legolas was playing yes man for when they met. After months of playful chatting with the man behind the counter, Legolas found himself caught up with his warm smiles and big dreams of owning his own place. Thinking more of coffee colored eyes than his next information drop.

The day he realized he cared more for that American dreamer rather than the ingrained loyalty to his own homeland he flushed his radio transmitter down the drain, withdrew his life's savings, and all but ran to the diner. He had never been more relieved when Gimli tore off his apron and said he just had to pack his suitcase, because he already had a place picked out.

What followed was a whirlwind that ended up with Legolas as a partial diner owner, Cold War spy, and defector. Not that Gimli knew about the last two. He didn't even know about Legolas's little infatuation. Legolas wasn't even sure which revelation would be the most dangerous if it ever came to that.

The fry-eater paid his bill and stumbled out the door, leaving only one patron left.

The businessman cleared his throat, saying he should probably head home himself. Legolas busied himself totaling his bill as he set his briefcase onto the counter and dug around for his billfold.

It wasn't much, just a glint of light where it shouldn't be, but Legolas reacted immediately on pure instinct alone. He reached out and spun the briefcase around just before a quite pop went off. The businessman fell to the ground with a thud, clutching the bloodstain spreading over his gut as a harsh Russian curse slipped past his lips.

Legolas was over the counter in a heartbeat, one of his apron strings tight around the man's neck as he set to make sure that would be the last word he ever said.

"Legolas!" Gimli shouted as he dashed out of the kitchen, a frying pan clutched in his hand.

Legolas froze, still crouched over the body, and felt his new life crumble beneath him. He was babbling something, but he couldn't say what. He hoped it was some sort of explanation that could salvage anything.

He realized Gimli was crouched in front of him, gripping his shoulders and saying, "Legolas! Legolas, cool it! Breathe, will ya!"

Legolas took a deep breath and tried to regain his calm. 

"That's it," Gimli encouraged, "No need to panic or do anything rash. You don't have any cyanide on you, right? No need to use any of that."

Legolas blinked. Something was very wrong with this scene.

"Gimli, what..." He trailed off, unsure how to ask.

"The first time they find you after you've gone native is always nerve wracking," Gimli explained calmly, and Legolas's crumbling world shifted into something new and unexpected.

"Afterwards it gets easier," Gimli continued, "almost thought you were someone they sent after me at first. You're lucky you're so pretty, Legs, otherwise I would have started slipping rat poison in your coffee. Come on, let's make sure he doesn't have a transmitter on him anywhere."

Legolas followed Gimli's lead on autopilot, checking for any radios, transmitters, or microfilm on the body before following Gimli to a place they could dispose of the body while making it look like a mob hit.

Later that night, they found themselves back at the diner sitting across from each other at one of the booths. Legolas listened attentively to Gimli's story about how he defected four years ago, having fallen in love with the land he had been sent to infiltrate. 

Finally Legolas couldn't help but ask, "Who were you?"

Gimli had a solemn look in his eye as he answered, "Grigory was my name. You have mine now, may I have yours."

"Leonid," he replied without hesitation.

"Good," Gimli said with a nod. "Then we can put those people away and forget about them. I find I'd much rather live Gimli's life, than Grigory's."

Legolas watched a subtle blush rise on Gimli's face as he placed one hand over his. He smiled and turned his hand over, letting their fingers fit together.

"I feel the same."

End.


	23. Please Put On Some Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I was challenged to incorporate the five word phrase in the title into a ficlet)
> 
> Modern era

It was hard sharing a flat with the guy you'd been crushing on since you met him in bio 101 freshman year. It was even harder when you already knew he was out of your league (seriously, he had turned down a modeling contract with one of the top companies in New York to get a degree in environmental studies). Gimli had resigned himself to pining in secret and suffering through things such as seeing Legolas shuffle around with mussed up bed head or step out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

He never thought he'd have to suffer through a trial like this.

Legolas was standing in their tiny kitchen studying the contents of the fridge, which wasn't that strange as they did share the place. Gimli's problem was that he didn't have a single. Stitch. Of clothing. On.

Again.

This was the third time this weekend he had walked into a similar scene. How was anyone supposed to cope without touching when all of that glorious skin was just there on display?! Then Legolas bent to get something off bottom shelf. Gimli felt his cheeks burn like a wildfire.

"I just remembered I promised Fíli I'd get drinks with him tonight I'm late got to go!" Gimli blurted, grabbing his jacket and making a quick exit.

"Tell him I say hi!" Legolas called after him, casual and cheerful as could be.

Gimli shut the door quickly and leaned against it. He took a moment to actually put on his jacket while thinking about the most disgusting story his uncle had ever told him about his medical practice to keep any other problems from, ahem, arising. Then he fished out his mobile to call his cousin.

"Fíli? Yeah, you and I are going to get drinks. Now. As your cousin, I am calling family privilege. Just study for Socio tomorrow! Come on! Just meet me at the Green Dragon. See you soon!"

Half an hour and two beers in found Gimli explaining the woes of living with ultimate temptation to his steadily more amused cousin.

"He already has to be hot, and funny, and the best beer pong partner on campus. With pretty eyes, and great hair, and the cutest laugh..."

"You are so completely head over heels for him."

"Shut up," Gimli grumbled, "Like I was saying, it's not fair that he is already all of that and naked!"

Fíli blinked at him. "Hold up. What?"

"Naked. Like _all_ the time," Gimli mourned, staring dolefully into his beer. "It's like he just suddenly decided to join a one man nudist colony. That happens to be in out flat. It's excruciating."

Fíli just stared at him for an incredulous moment before doubling over laughing.

"Only you, Gimli! Only you could have a problem with your wet dreams becoming reality!"

Gimli gaped at his cousin. He chucked a napkin at him in outrage.

"This isn't funny!"

"Yes, yes it really is," Fíli wheezed, wiping at his eyes. He reached for his phone and started texting quickly. "I've got to tell Kíli about this!"

"You suck," Gimli grumbled.

"Look, just talk to him, okay?" Fíli advised, not even glancing up from his phone. "He's your roommate, and self proclaimed best friend. If you really have such a problem with the object of your dreams giving you a free show, ask him to cover up."

Gimli just nodded glumly. It's not that he didn't want to see Legolas naked, it just made it very hard to avoid walls.

Fíli finally looked back up at him, a glint in his eye.

"And for the record, you're an idiot. And you're paying for my beer."

Next time he had a crisis, Gimli was going to call Kíli instead.

When Gimli returned to the apartment, Legolas was sitting on the couch, eating some microwave popcorn and watching a lifetime movie. He was still naked. He spotted Gimli quickly and flashed him that brilliant smile of his. This was going to be harder than Gimli thought.

"How was Fíli?" he asked as Gimli tossed his jacket over a chair.

"An ass," Gimli replied trying not to blatantly stare as he sat down on the couch. "Legolas, I need to talk to you about something..."

"Yes?" Legolas asked as he set aside bag of popcorn to give Gimli his full attention.

"I don't know if this is a comfort thing, or an expressing yourself thing, but you've been naked a lot."

Legolas simply raised an eyebrow.

"Like _a lot_ ," Gimli stressed, "and it's making things a little difficult. Not that you don't have a right to be naked, or that it's necessarily bad to be naked. It's just that we have to share this space and it makes me hard— makes it hard! For me."

Gimli could feel his face start turning a shade that could rival his beard. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So could you please put on some clothes?"

Legolas leaned back, tapping a finger against his bottom lip in a contemplative manner that was unfairly attractive. Gimli had to refrain from fidgeting in his seat while Legolas considered.

"Hmmm... I could," Legolas said finally, standing up from the couch, "or you could take off those clothes and be naked with me."

Gimli's brain had to take some time to come back online as Legolas sauntered towards the hallway.

"Wait! Legolas, do you mean..."

Legolas stopped, looking over his shoulder at Gimli with a fond smile on his face.

"Honestly Gimli, I don't think I could be more blatantly obvious if I painted a sign. I had to resort to desperate measures, here. So please put me out of my misery, get naked, and get over here before I actually do put some clothes on!"

And with that, he was off towards his bedroom.

Gimli took one second to acknowledge that yes, he was an idiot, before bolting down the hall after him, already stripping off his shirt.

Clothing was overrated, anyways!

End.


	24. Dreams (Alligators Chased Me Through Disney!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a very long time, here is another filk for my five word prompts! I was prompted with the phrase "Alligators chased me through disney!" How in the world did you come up with that one, nonnie? 
> 
> Modern Era 
> 
> Warnings: brief scene that may be reminiscent of PTSD. Unbeta-ed

 

Long before they moved in together, Gimli knew that Legolas had strange sleep patterns, to say the least. In fact, he knew it before they even started dating.

The very first time he met Legolas it became apparent.

Gimli had overslept for his eight AM anthropology lecture, and was forced to sneak into the back of the lecture hall as quietly possible or face professor Peredhel’s withering glare of doom. He snagged the first open seat he saw, grateful for the measure of anonymity granted by the large class size. A glance at his watch told him the professor was at least a good twenty minutes into his lesson.

With a voiceless curse, Gimli dug into his backpack for a notebook and pencil.

“Hey,” he whispered to the guy sitting next to him, just barely audible over professor Peredhel’s droning, “Can I take a peek at your notes?”

The guy didn't respond. In fact, he didn't appear to have noticed at all, just kept staring down at professor Peredhel’s Powerpoint slide.

If there hadn't been a quiz scheduled for the next day, he wouldn't have kept bothering, but as it stood Gimli really needed to get caught up. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Sorry to bug you, but I really don't want to fall behind, and I just need a quick peek…” Gimli trailed off as he got a better look at the guy.

His classmate was the picture of relaxed boredom; tall frame slouched in his seat, pencil held loosely in lax fingers, and pale eyes staring straight ahead with an unfocused gaze. The tiniest of snores slipped past his lips.

Gimli knew his jaw was hanging open, but he didn't really care. He gave the guy a slight poke in the side and watched in fascination as he jerked in surprise, blinking rapidly as he came back to awareness.

“What?” the guy asked, a frankly adorable confused expression on his face.

“I think you were… asleep,” Gimli replied, “with your eyes open.”

A blush spread from the guy’s cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Oh, um, yeah. That happens sometimes,” he admitted, “Thanks for waking me.”

“I was just trying to borrow your notes,” Gimli said with a wry grin.

The guy looked down at his notebook, gaze running over the trail of graphite that had traveled off the paper and onto the desk.

“I think I only got the first two slides, so I might not be much help,” he told Gimli with a sheepish smile of his own.

Gimli shrugged.

“That's alright. This makes me feel much better about showing up late,” he replied, “I'm Gimli, by the way.”

“Legolas,” his classmate responded, “Glad to meet you, Gimli.”

And that had been the beginning of it all. Neither of them did well on the following quiz, but they began sitting together from that point on.

Gimli found Legolas to be engaging, with a wicked sense of humor and genuinely interesting outlook on life. Sure, some mornings Legolas was completely wired, and on others he was practically a zombie, but Gimli only caught him sleeping with his eyes open two other times in class. By midterm, they were firmly friends.

Over the course of their friendship, Gimli learned several other things about Legolas’s bizarre relationship with sleep. For example, Legolas sometimes went days without sleep with very few outward signs until he hit day three. Legolas was also capable of falling asleep in any place imaginable once sleep finally caught up to him.

 

(Gimli swore he once caught Legolas fall asleep on the way to class while still walking.)

 

Eventually close friendship and mutual attraction led to a romantic relationship. Which, of course, led to several more discoveries about Legolas's sleep habits once they began sleeping together.

Gimli learned that Legolas was a bit of a sleep talker, although everything he said appeared to be in some strange language known only to Legolas's unconscious mind.

 

(Legolas jerked sharply in his sleep, grabbing Gimli's arm with an outstretched hand. “Gimli, _meleth-nin_ —” Legolas mumbled, eyes moving restlessly behind his lids.

“Yes, yes,” Gimli said, patting Legolas's hand fondly, “ _meleth_ to you too.”

Legolas mumbled a few more words of sleepy gibberish before settling back into restful stillness. Gimli simply shook his head, smiling as he went back to his book.)

 

He also learned that Legolas had a little bottle of melatonin pills that sat mostly untouched on his nightstand. They were supposed to help regulate his sleep pattern, but Legolas avoided taking them until the absolute last resort for a single reason; the dreams.

Legolas already had some of the most bizarre and vibrant dreams Gimli had ever heard about. Usually they were amusing.

 

(“We worked at Disney, and I think you were Donald Duck, because you had a sailor hat, but no pants. And that alligator with the clock kept trying to catch me. You know, the one that wanted to eat Captain Hook, except it wanted to eat me and there were like, ten of it! And every time I tried to get away I'd hear that ticking and have to start running again. It was horrible Gimli! Alligators chased me at Disney! It's supposed to be a happy place!” Legolas explained in a rush, his hair still a tangled mess of bed head.)

 

But sometimes, Legolas's dreams were unsettlingly vivid. More often than not, nights when he took his melatonin also brought these dreams with them. He called them “story dreams” because they were like walking into another life; some wild adventure from the pages of a fantasy novel. What's more, they were consistent. Legolas described them like recalling distant memories, and always seemed to carry the echo of them around for days afterwards.

 

(“I had a dream about my father, except he wasn't the father I have now,” Legolas explained, eyes distant. “He was tall, and his hair was blonde like mine. I remember he was wearing some kind crown, and his ears… There was something about his ears…”

He accepted the warm cup of tea Gimli offered him, and gave him a wan smile.

“You know, it was strange how badly I wanted him to be proud of me,” Legolas continued.

“You know your father is proud of you,” Gimli tried to assure him.

Legolas's brow furrowed.

“Yeah, but… I wanted _that one_ to be proud of me too.”)

 

Some of the story dreams were frightening in their intensity.

 

(Gimli was shocked into wakefulness by Legolas thrashing besides him. Legolas's eyes were squeezed shut and his teeth gritted together painfully tight. Small distressed noises were forced from his throat as he twisted in the sheets, body as tense as a bowstring.

Gimli flicked on the bedside lamp in a hurry, flooding their bedroom with light.

“Legolas! Legolas!”

Legolas snapped into wakefulness with a gasp.

“Gimli?” His eyes frantically sought out Gimli's, breath coming in hard pants.

“I'm here, I'm here. You're alright,” Gimli tried to soothe him, pulling Legolas into his arms.

Legolas shivered under his palms.

“We were in a battle in the rain,” Legolas began, letting the events of that night’s dream tumble out in a rush. “We were fighting an army of monsters, and there was blood everywhere. People were dying, and we had to just keep fighting over their fallen bodies. It was awful, Gimli! We were losing, I knew we were losing and that we were going to die in this place. And then I couldn't find you anywhere, Gimli! I didn't even know if you were still—”

Legolas cut himself off viciously, clinging to Gimli tighter as his shoulders shook.

“It was just a dream, Love. We're safe,” Gimli promised, glaring at the little bottle of pills sitting innocuously on the nightstand.

“Just a dream.”)

 

Sometimes, they were something else entirely...

When Gimli woke up that morning, Legolas was already sitting up on the side of the bed, staring out the window. He was very still, but his body was relaxed.

“Legolas?”

Legolas took a deep breath.

“You were old, Gimli,” Legolas explained, already knowing the next question that would be asked, “Your beard was long again, but this time it was as white as the snow. We were living in a small house. I think we built it, even. And I could see the ocean from the window…”

Gimli moved to sit next to his boyfriend, but didn't interrupt. He simply smoothed some of the long hair out of Legolas's face. It was so much longer than it was when they first met. He'd never asked why Legolas decided to grow it out.

“For some reason, I knew I was going to outlive you. But there was such a sense of peace, Gimli. Like we were just savoring every moment we had together. I think we'd been together for decades.”

Gimli didn't know what to say. He just looked at the small wistful smile on Legolas's face and wished, not for the first time, that he could somehow have a window into this private world of his. Despite all of the pain the dreams could bring there was something about the depth of the happier ones.

It was a pointless wish, though.

They were only dreams.

 

END.


	25. Well, That Was Certainly Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of a five word prompt the same as the title above. No warnings this round, just chatty OC Rohirrim. 
> 
> Canon Era

 

 

"Well, that was certainly different,” Daegal said as he reentered the feast hall. His voice carried far enough over the din of the hall to reach his companions, despite the slight quaver to it.

He took a seat between Alden and Hammid, gratefully accepting a flagon of strong Rohirrim ale.

“What?” Hammid asked, thankfully waiting until Daegal had taken a long drink, “I thought you were going to go invite our esteemed guests to drink with us tonight.”

“You did find them, didn't you?” Alden added.

Daegal nodded, roughly wiping away the foam still clinging to his mustache.

“Oh I found them,” he said, staring deeply into his flagon, “finding them wasn't the problem.”

Alden gave him a sharp nudge in the side.

“Well?”

Daegal took another fortifying drink of ale before he could be cajoled into telling his tale.

“King Elessar was in discussions with Lord Éomer, King, so he could not be invited to join us,” he said.

“Not much different about that,” Hammid said, crossing his arms with a dismissive snort.

“I never said that was the different part!” Daegal replied indignantly.

“You implied it!” Hammid shot back.

“It's background,” Daegal said, gesturing with his flagon, “It's important to give the tale some context!”

“Just get on with the story!” Alden quickly cut in before Hammid could come up with another rejoinder.

“What story, now?” came a new voice.

Alden groaned, slumping in his seat and muttering to himself about no one ever being able to tell a straight story in this hall.

Orva ignored him, setting down the plate of roast pork she'd retrieved with a flourish before taking a seat herself. She raised an eyebrow in Daegal’s direction, snagging a piece for herself.

“Weren't you supposed to be getting our guests?” she asked.

“I was just explaining that.”

“Poorly,” Hammid added.

“Just let him talk!” Alden begged, dropping his head into his hand.

Hammid made a ‘well, go ahead’ gesture with his hand.

“As I was just saying,” Daegal said, pausing to clear his throat. “Elessar was in conversation so I went to find Masters Elf and Dwarf, but they were also… busy…”

Daegal trailed off, quickly taking another deep drink of his ale.

“You tell terrible stories, mate,” Hammid grumbled, turning his full attention to the roast pork.

“Busy, how?” Orva prompted, as she licked her fingers clean.

Daegal sputtered over some words, growing red in the face as he searched for a right way to explain. Finally, he set his flagon aside, folding his hands in front of him.

“You have heard that Elves are also considered to be great riders,” he began.

Hammid groaned, but Alden reached over to give him a smack before he could begin complaining about the digression.

“But they do not always ride horses,” he continued.

“Mph!” Orva exclaimed, quickly swallowing her bite of food.

“Yes! I've heard that one of the Elvish kings rides a huge stag, with antlers wider than your arms can spread!”

“Not a stag, either,” Daegal muttered, turning even redder.

That earned him another sharp nudge in the side.

“Well?”

“Tonight I learned that our Master Elf is apparently quite skilled at riding a Dwarf.”

Alden stared at him, mouth agape in shock.

“Now that certainly _is_ different!” Hammid admitted, clapping Daegal on the back.

Orva leaned forward with a grin.

“I like this story. Go on.”

  
End.


	26. Legolas Somehow Gets The Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of a challenge in which the 5 word phrase prompted and seen in the title would be used in the fic.
> 
> Modern Era

 

It really was such a simple thing to be causing such trouble. Just a little band of gold. Perfectly crafted, of course, but rather plain to look at. No flashy stones, just a subtle inscription that was only visible if it caught the light just right.

Just one ring.

Of course, it was more than just a ring. It was the weight of it. The meaning of it.

It was going to given Fili and Kili stress dreams for weeks.

“We've gotta get it to him somehow,” Kili said, pulling at his hair. The strain in his voice was just barely audible over the general racket of the kitchen.

“I know that,” Fili replied, staring out the kitchen window into the dining room, “but how? They're almost done with their entrées!”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Kili exclaimed, starting to pace. “What are we gonna do? We're going to mess everything up and then Gimli is going to hate us forever! Why did he trust us with this?”

Fili grabbed his brother, giving him a good shake to keep him from spiraling further into panic.

“We can do this. As long as Legolas somehow gets the ring, we're good. We'll figure something out.”

Kili took a deep, controlled breath.

“Right, just got to get the ring to Legolas. Ok, what if we baked it in a cake?”

“Brilliant!” Fili agreed with a grin. “We’ve got enough time to bake it into a small cake, and then we'll give it to Legolas for desert. And when he cuts into it, he'll find the ring and then Gimli can pop the question!”

“Oh, no!” Came Bombur’s voice, loud in the way it only ever got in the kitchen. He brandished a spatula at the two in an effectively threatening manner. “You are not putting any foreign objects in my deserts! I'm not having any customer crack their teeth on my food, and especially not Gimli's sweetheart.”

Fili and Kíli cringed in unison at the image.

“Ok, good point, Chef. Not in the food,” Fili agreed. “Too easy for it to go wrong, and then Uncle Thorin and Bilbo would fire us.”

Kili cocked his head in a thoughtful manner.

“Though to be fair, it's a ring, so he couldn't really choke to death on it.”

“Not the point,” Fili hissed, giving his brother a shove.

The two stiffened, at the sound of a polite little “ahem” behind them. The turned to see Bilbo looking elegant as he always did when it was his night to run the front of the house. His suit tailored and pressed to perfection and not a single, greying hair out of place. He was looking up at them with a patiently amused expression, a small tray with one of the restaurant’s cloth napkins draped over it in one hand.

“If I may,” he said, gesturing at the ring.

Fili and Kili shuffled to the side so Bilbo could pick up the ring, carefully placing it on his tray. With a nod, he glided from the kitchen toward Gimli and Legolas's table. Fili and Kili watched with rapt attention from where they had crowded into the kitchen door.

Bilbo paused at the table.

“Gentlemen, I believe we have a personally selected special tonight,” he said, presenting the tray to Legolas with a bow, “with our compliments.”

Legolas stared at the ring in shock.

“What? Gimli—”

His hand flew to his mouth as Gimli slid out of his seat and down to one knee.

“Legolas, I have never been happier than when I'm with you. You challenge me to reach new heights and take me on new adventures everyday. I can think of no better way to spend the rest of my life, than next to you. Please, will you do me the honor of marrying me and spending the rest of our days together?”

Without hesitation, Legolas threw himself into Gimli's arms, chanting “yes, yes, yes!” as he hugged him. Gimli flashed a thumbs-up behind Legolas's back in the kitchen’s general direction.

Bilbo set the tray, ring and all, onto their table with a grin.

“I'll just leave this here then, and see about getting you two some desert,” he said, practically unnoticed by the couple, still embracing on the restaurant floor.

Fili gave Kili’s shoulder a squeeze, grinning from ear to ear.

“See? Mission accomplished.”

“Yeah, we should have just trusted Bilbo to be the ring bearer in the first place.”

  
END.

 

 


End file.
